My Book of Redwall Poetry
by Robbie Miller
Summary: This is a collection of all of the poetry that I have written that has been inspired by Redwall
1. The Unforgiving Sea

The Unforgiving Sea

My love is standing by the shore,  
I sometimes wonder if I'll see her ever more.  
When the anchor's weighed,  
And our path is made,  
We'll sail about the sea.  
But all the while I'll think of her,  
Standing there, waiting for me.

Watch the tide as it rises high,  
Then lowers as does my heart.  
Leaving the shells high and dry,  
It pains me to be apart.

We watch the storm in full blow,  
Will we come out alive, we don't know.  
I see the main mast as it breaks,  
And thinking of her, my heart aches.  
Seeing the rock as they smash the prow,  
Life before my eyes is flashing now.  
I think of my love, is she thinking of me?

Watch the tide as it rises high,  
Then lowers as does my heart.  
Leaving the shells high and dry,  
It pains me to be apart.

The Sea Wolf, our beauty of a ship,  
Is crashing into the high cliff's lip.  
Wondering if my soul'll live here on,  
Though I'll rather it be with her, anon.  
The unforgiving sea, lashing at the deck,  
The salty water almost to my neck.

Watch the tide as it rises high,  
Then lowers as does my heart.  
Leaving the shells high and dry,  
It pains me to be apart.

No feeling in my legs nor one arm,  
But I'm hoping that none shall bring her harm.  
The last thing I see is the locket from her,  
I wish her to remember me,  
The lad that she lost to the sea.

_This is not based on one book, but on every book where someone has died at sea. I added the little story line in there to give it some emotion._


	2. Glory In Battle

Glory in Battle

_As told from the point of veiw of Brigadier General Evim Firstblade._

Glory in battle  
Was all we wanted  
Little did we know  
We were the hunted  
Thinking the woods  
Were good protection  
The camoflauge didn't  
Keep us from detection  
Our small scouting group  
Was comprised of five  
Small chance we had  
Of getting out alive  
Two score of vermin  
Attacked our band  
Far from Salamandastron  
That was our homeland  
Perhaps our deaths  
Weren't for naught  
To think we're forgotten  
Is a terrible thought  
The mountain of fire  
Now it seemed so far away  
My long lost home  
Is where my heart will always stay.

_This poem accually has two origins. The first is that it is inspired by "Long Patrol". The second is that this is a small tribute to the soldiers that had died in Iraq._


	3. The Tragedy of the Food Fight

The Tragedy of the Food fight

Two stoats had a quarrel one fine afternoon,  
"Your paw's in my food, you great buffoon!"  
"Why, pray tell me, was your food placed there?"  
"You placed your scurvy foot without a care!"  
The second stoat, astonished, was taken aback.  
"It is not I whose head a brain does lack!"  
The first stoat was in a horrid mood.  
"But it is not I who stuck my paw in some food!"  
The second stoat thought the first to be very rude.  
"Why, sir stoat, you can be so lewd!"  
The first stoat arose from his sitting place.  
"You, droopy whiskers, have a guilty face!  
I think that you stepping in my food was not a mistake!"  
"Watch your mouth, and I say this for your own sake!"  
The first stoat jumped, a bowl of soup in his paw.  
And with raspberries and cherries in claw.  
Waving the food threateningly he said,  
"I shall dump this food on your scummy head!"  
The second stoat made a menacing tone,  
"If you do, your measly face will meet this scone!"  
Such a fight it was I find it ghastly to recall,  
All the horrible injuries accounted for in the dining hall.  
Pounded by pasties and beat by berries,  
Hurt with hotroot and creamed by cherries.  
Wounded by watershrimp and smashed by salad,  
A true inspiration for any ballad.  
Oh, woe to the food fight, one without glory,  
But, still, this is not the end to our story.  
Since the vermin had such an aversion to soap,  
The results were better than any goodbeast could hope.  
You could smell the vulgar vermin a mile away,  
So the forts and the houses could fortify without delay.  
A lesson to all dibbuns who will not bathe,  
Think of the poor vermin who would not behave.  
How victory denied such smelly beasts,  
And what became of the afternoon's feast.

_I'm not sure which book this poem was inspired by. I beleive it was Pearls of Lutra, one of the characters recites the story of the food fight._


End file.
